FOR a man who has been given soul-crushing information, Aidan Coleman is remarkably composed when we meet in Moreton-in-Marsh, a stone’s throw from his home in the Cotswolds. The essence of the bad news?
“I was a jockey last week, now I’m an ex-jockey, he says.
The beginning of the end came in June last year when Aidan’s mount Ascension Day, two lengths ahead in a maiden hurdle at Worcester, ran out at the last, crashing through the wings. Aidan knew his fall was serious - not from the pain, for which jockeys have next-level thresholds - but when he saw the angle of his leg. After exemplary care on the track, he was taken by ambulance to the local A&E, still in his silks, and waited his turn - overnight - to be treated.
The injury to his knee wasn’t straightforward; it took two operations and extensive rehab and, come Christmas, he realised progress had stalled, and riding out wasn’t working at all. After a consultation with his surgeon the
